First Kiss
by Artemisdesari
Summary: Castiel gets hits by a curse that causes a his grace to be bound and his body transformed. To win the war he needs to break the curse but the more he finds out about it, the more he despairs of freeing himself. Besides, there's a catch to freedom Dean/Cas
1. Chapter 1

_New fic, even though I'm halfway through my Gabriel one. It had to be done and I wholeheartedly blame Punky and Lisa for this! They encouraged me and it's a little bit out of my usual comfort zone for fic. I'll explain a little bit more at the end of this chapter and doubtless this fic will go on to turn into a little bit of crack mixed in with the usual angst and bleak despair. You all should know me by now and everything. Also, I've watched Shrek far too many times for a woman of my age and it may have influenced element of this rather a lot. Never mind.  
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_**Disclaimer:** Not mine, really not mine. I'm playing for giggles and my own personal amusement, the rest of you reading this enjoy it too and the only thing I get from it is reviews. Besides, if I owned it this would be an actual story arc and not my diseased mind. It's Supernatural and we all know that many things can happen on that show.  
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First Kiss.

Moonlight glitters on the lake, the soft hoot of an owl can be heard over the gentle lapping of barely still water. The silvery light bathes the trees in a seeming blackness that is both frightening and magical, and that line of darkness is broken for only a moment as the ghostly form of the owl swoops from tree branch to tree branch.

A figure stands beside the still water, head tilted up so that his face is turned to the stars in the clear sky above. His tan coat is washed out by the bright moon, sickly against pale skin and dark hair. Eyes that are normally brilliant, heart-stopping, blue seem darkened but the sorrow and near despair in them in terribly clear. This is a man close to the edge of losing everything, a man who would spend his time alone and despairing rather than going to friends or family. This is a man who is not a man, a being of great power trapped inside a vessel so that he may move around the members of humanity without causing them harm. This is a being who sees the darkness and the harsh nature of mankind and lets a part of him wonder why he has sacrificed so much to ensure that they were allowed to survive and do with their existence as they will. These are people who will never know what he has given to help them, these are people who will likely not _care_ what he has given up.

None of these people are aware now of the terrible war that the occupants of Heaven now wage on one another, these are people who do not know that Castiel's rebellion and discovery of his own free will has sparked a struggle for power that will eventually decide the fate of mankind. The only one who has even an inkling of how hard things have become for this angel is Dean Winchester, and even the relationship with that man is strained and difficult now. Dean has been on his own for over a year and Castiel feels keenly that walking away and returning to Heaven, that abandoning his friend in his hour of emotional need, has been a great mistake. He thinks that he should have stayed away from Heaven for a time and supported Dean in the way that the human needed his support. Instead Castiel has ignored Dean's agonies and he wonders if his ignorance of that has been a part of the spark behind Dean's wilful ignorance of the serious nature of Castiel's position.

He stretches his wings up to the moon, the briefest flash of feathered shadows cast over the moon-black grass behind him. In the deepest recesses of his grace he can feel Dean's soul, feel the sorrow and fear of a man who has lost love due to his duty to hunting. He can feel the terror of a man who is watching and waiting for the day that the wall in Sam's mind collapses under the strain of memories of a year without a soul and the agonies of Hell. The angel is close to Sam, views the younger Winchester brother as a friend, but it is Dean that Castiel shares a bond with, Dean that Castiel will respond to without thought or question if he is able.

His moment of introspection is interrupted by the arrival of another. This is Castiel's old friend, one that he wishes he could trust and is absolutely terrified to put his entire well being into this other angel's hands. Balthazar has been an unknown element for the last few years, however, long believed dead and his choice of lifestyle a disappointment to an angel who likes to think that he has taken his actions for the most noble of reasons. They have the Heavenly weapons that Balthazar walked out with, Castiel cannot describe the relief at knowing that he now has them at his disposal. He simply needs to work out a way to use them and that is where this meeting with his friend comes in.

Or it would be, were it not for the fact that as he opens his mouth to speak Balthazar's face falls. His body becomes rigid and pain lances through him, crippling and blinding as light floods behind his eyes. The angel staggers, stumbles, and gasps as the light begins to clear. He is not by the lake any longer. The light that floods over him is bright and artificial and the sound of voices and music floods over him as a door opens and a young woman in a short skirt and t-shirt walks in. She barely glances at him as she goes into a nearby stall and locks the door behind her. He is in a ladies bathroom in an unknown bar and Castiel tries to will himself back to the lake.

Nothing happens. Only another flood of pain that leaves him doubled over and retching into a sink. A flood of emotion washes over him, frustration and anger like he has not felt since he lost all of his grace. Whatever has been done to him as rendered him human, or as close to as he is going to get. Tears prick at his eyes and he looks up from the stained porcelain to glance in the mirror.

Profanities drip from his lips that he half knows Dean would be proud to hear could he understand the Enochian they are hissed in. He watches full, soft, lips move as he speaks, hears a low and smokey voice mutter them. His hands, long fingered and delicate, reach up to touch soft black locks that now fall over his shoulders and finally he turns is eyes from the mirror and looks down at himself.

More correctly, looks down at _her_self.

This is a problem.

_I don't normally genderbend, and I certainly don't usually play a Dean/Cas fic in this way, but Punky and Lisa both wanted to see it and it hasn't really left me alone. _

_Artemis  
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	2. Chapter 2

_So as I was writing this one, in the glorious sunshine I might add, I realised that I'm still writing Cas as a 'he' rather than as a 'she' at the moment from the angel's pov. That's simply because he's still the same character and in his mind, at least, he's still accustomed to thinking of himself as male rather than female. It will change later, but at the moment it fits with the disorientation._

The first thing that Castiel feels when he realises what has been done to him is panic. It bubbles up through him in a way that is uncontrollable and terrifying, something that cannot be halted by the cold burn of heavenly grace. He cannot function like this, in a body that he is as unfamiliar with as he once was with Jimmy Novak's, with his grace tied and denied to him. Every little thing that he tries to do is prevented by a wave of pain and rising nausea. Just to attempt to fly from this place leaves him on the floor after the third attempt, his arms wrapped around his stomach as it tries to reject food he has not eaten. He cannot hear his allied brothers, cannot contact Balthazar no matter how hard he tries.

There is only one thing that he can think of to do, two people he can think of who might help him: Sam and Dean Winchester.

He glances down again from his position on the floor, taking stock of what he is wearing as he pats at the pockets of his trench coat. Almost everything is the same as it was before the body changed gender. He is still wearing black slacks and a white shirt, a black blazer under a tan trench coat and his blue tie is looser than normal. The only real changes are in the cut of the clothing, far more feminine than they should be, and his shoes, which are now patent black heels that pinch at his toes. He is hoping, of course, to find the cell phone that he bought so that he could locate the brothers during the Apocalypse and it is pure chance that it is still there. Given that Castiel has not used the thing in nearly two years it is something of a relief to know that it still sits in it's accustomed place. He pulls the phone out, flips it open and stares at the screen for a long moment. Doubt is something that he is all too familiar with and it rolls through him now in a wave almost powerful enough to drive him to his knees were he not already on the floor. There is that worry that has gradually been growing in the back of his mind, the one that has been triggered by a long litany of Dean's demands for his time. It is a worry that has only grown stronger with every time that Dean has acted like Castiel's problems and concerns are not something that will have any effect on the mortal. It is the worry that Dean will not help him should he ask it.

Nonetheless, Castiel needs help and with no other way to reach his family and no real idea of where he is there is no one else that he can turn to. He _needs_ Dean at this particular moment and he can only hope that Dean will come through for him this time as Castiel has in the past for the hunter.

"You don't really want to be sitting down there, sweetie," a tall woman with red heels and a short skirt tells him. Castiel looks up at her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," the sound of his new voice jolts through him, still gravelly but higher pitched and feminine. It is almost unrecognisable from the voice that belonged to Jimmy.

"If you say so," her heels click as she struts away and the bathroom is once again flooded with the noise of the bar before Castiel is left alone. There is nothing more to distract him and the stranded angel hits call.

-_**Cas?**_- Dean's voice is loud over the background of voices wherever his actual location might be.

"Dean," relief floods the angel, "I need your help."

-_**Who is this?**_- The hostility is unexpected and chilling. Castiel has been on the receiving end of it before, but never in this situation, never when he so badly needed help. -**_Where's Cas?_**- This has been a mistake, Castiel decides, no matter what he says at this point Dean's natural suspicious mind has been aroused. At this point no spoken word is going to convince the hunter that the angel is telling the truth. This is not the voice that Dean knows and trusts, this is not going to be as easy to solve as Castiel has hoped. Ideally, he thinks, this conversation should have happened face to face.

"It's me," he responds, opening the door to the bathroom and entering a bar. The scent of alcohol and sweat is strong, assaulting his nose in a manner that he is unaccustomed to. It only goes to reiterate the amount of trouble he is in.

SPN

-_**It's me.**_- The response of the smokey voiced woman on the other end of the line is less than enlightening to Dean and the hunter scowls. -**_Dean, you _have_ to listen to me very carefully..._**-

"Not until I know _who _you are," Dean replies, watching the way that Sam's face screws up in confusion. There is an impatient sigh on the other end of the line and if this were Cas Dean knows that the angel would be all but rolling his eyes at this moment. Behind the sigh and the words he can hear the noise and din of a crowd of people, looks up to mouth something to Sam and spots the woman walking out of the bathroom with her phone to her ear.

Her hair is a mass of shoulder length black, falling in messy waves and curls, her trench coat is the same colour as Castiel's ever present one and she is slightly unsteady on her heels. Dean's first thought is that she's hot enough to make a move on, his second is that she is already slightly drunk and therefore less likely to be a challenge. His final thought is derailed by the large blue eyes that turn in his direction and fill with something unidentifiable as his name is whispered down the phone she holds and straight to his ear. He watches her snap her cell phone shut, hears the click in his ear as the line goes dead, and then she is marching towards him. He would think that the appearance of this woman and the sudden end of the strange call are a coincidence, except that she is stood beside him and her blue eyes are staring at him in a way that reminds him uncomfortably of Cas.

"Hello, Dean," she greets him, completely ignoring Sam in much the same way that the angel has been known to do. In fact a lot of her mannerisms are eerily similar.

"You know him?" Sam asks and her head tilts, her face taking on an expression of consternation as she makes several attempts to speak.

"Of course I do, Sam, I know both of you very well," she responds finally.

"Who are you?" Dean snaps, a terrible suspicion forming in the back of his mind and it is not one that he really wants to think about. Again she seems to move her mouth without speaking before she makes her answer.

"I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition." The words are a confirmation of that thought, are twice as hot falling from the lips of this woman as they were from the rumpled angel.

"_Cas_?"

_Artemis_


	3. Chapter 3

_I didn't think that I was going to get this chapter finished so quickly, but inspiration struck at work and I had to get it all out. So here I go making the next couple of steps forward in my little fic. _

Cas is a woman.

That sentence goes around in his head for a good few minutes as he stares at his friend. Cas is a _woman_; a _hot_ woman. It makes Dean's mind shudder back from the thought. This version of his friend is so different from the original and yet so similar that the hunter has to wonder how he did not see it before. Her legs are long, seeming to go on forever until they reach the gentle curve of her hips. Her narrow waist rises to a pair of breasts that are not over generous but not lacking either. Her features and hands are delicate, feminine. It is her eyes, however, that are the most striking. They are still that vibrant blue that has always caught Dean's attention, but now they are wider and more filled with emotion than the man has ever seen.

He is not completely blind to the similarities, she still has that terrible posture and her hands still hang beside her as though she is not quite certain about what to do with them. Her eyes, though, her eyes have not lost their intensity. If anything they have gained it. They glitter and shine with the fear and panic that Dean knows must be filling her, emotions that he has seen on his own face and in his own eyes too often not to recognise. As much as he wants to ask the inevitable question, as much as he wants to check on his friend, he still shies away from the potential for a chick flick moment.

"What happened, Cas?" Sam has moved to one side to let the angel slide in next to him. The younger brother's eyes are alight with fascination and curiosity and if he has noticed how attractive Cas is like this nothing shows.

"I don't know," the frustration in Castiel's voice is clear, her eyebrows knitting together as she thinks. "I was meeting with Balthazar to discuss strategy and I woke up in there." Her head jerks towards the women's restroom.

"So you mojo'd yourself here?" Dean asks and is once again on the receiving end of Castiel's most irritated glare.

"No, Dean, I did not 'mojo'," her fingers come up in the air quotes gesture and Dean will never get over how _wrong_ that looks, "myself here. Whatever did this to me brought me here since I am unable to use my grace to get anywhere or _do_ anything!"

"You're human?" Sam is a little quicker off the mark than Dean, but neither of them needs to be told just how bad this is for the angel. Castiel is still public enemy number one as far as Raphael is concerned and without her grace it will be easy for the archangel to track her down, easy for her to kill Cas.

"Yes." Dean hates to hear that tremor in Castiel's voice, hates to see the fear in her eyes.

"What can we do?" Dean queries. He is aware that he has not been the best of friends to his angel lately, and as angry as he is about the way Cas let Balthazar _use_ them he cannot simply stand by and watch as everything his friend has worked for falls to pieces.

"I don't know!" Cas snaps, her hands balling into fists on the table and a moan of frustration escaping from her lips. "I can't even think who would want to _do_ this to me or how it could be accomplished."

Their eyes meet across the table just as they have done a thousand times, lock as though Castiel is still trying to look into Dean's mind or read his soul. Some habits do not seem to change, Dean thinks. Sam coughs uncomfortably next to Cas, eying the two of them with a level of curiosity that makes the hunter squirm. Sam has seen he and Castiel interact like this before, it was the norm throughout the apocalypse after all, but there is a glint to his younger brother's eye that Dean does not like.

"We'll fix it," Dean opts for telling her instead. "We'll go back to the motel and Sam can get his geek on."

Which is what they do, even with Sam's disgruntled bitch face at the thought that he is going to be the one doing all the work on this one again.

Castiel's ability to walk in her newly acquired heels does not improve much as they make their way to the Impala. Nor does it get any better when they go into the motel room and Dean can see her wince with each step that she takes. The normally impassive angel is not accustomed to being able to feel every twinge of pain and discomfort and Dean is fairly certain, after many a conversation with Lisa, that they are not the most comfortable items of footwear in the world.

The room is almost silent, broken only by the occasional drink from a bottle, the tapping of Sam's fingers on the keyboard of the laptop and the odd yawn from Cas. The yawns bring a smile to Dean's face, to see the way that the angel screws her face up in confusion every time a yawn takes her by surprise. Eventually, Sam switches to coffee and Dean finds that even with the light and the constant tapping he is finding it hard to keep his eyes open. Castiel seems to be having the same problem.

"Get some sleep, Cas," Dean orders softly. "Take Sam's bed. We'll wake you up if he finds anything." Castiel glares at him for a very long moment and finally gives in when another yawn prevents her from staring any longer. She kicks off her shoes and lays down on the bed, not bothering to get under the sheets or even remove her coat. Dean figures that they can instruct her on simple human norms at a later date and closes his eyes as he, too, attempts to get some rest. It is not that he is not concerned about his friend, of course he is, it is simply that Dean is of more use to Castiel and Sam, both, if he is not bleary eyed from a third night without sleep.

He is woken several hours later by Sam's startled shout of the angel's name. Sunlight has just started to break through the curtains as Castiel is stood at the foot of Dean's bed, trench coat still in place and tie slightly askew. The only difference is that the woman from the night before is gone and the body of Jimmy Novak is now stood before them.

"_Cas_," he breathes, feeling a rush of relief at the sight of the restored angel. Castiel's lips twitch up at the corners, almost imperceptible to someone who did not know him as well, and the angel is gone in a rush of wings.

"Huh," Sam mutters and goes back to his research. Dean would like to think that this is the end of it all, but a part of him knows that it cannot possibly be. Part of him is just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

_You don't really think that it's going to be _that _easy do you?_

_Artemis  
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	4. Chapter 4

_I think it's pretty safe to say that this fic is most certainly _not_ compliant with 6x17 or any episodes that are yet to air. But how much fun was 6x17? Balthazar got the best lines of all time. I love that angel almost as much as I love Cas and the boys._

Castiel stares at the lake where everything went wrong for him the night before. He is still completely baffled about what caused his odd transformation, still baffled about what could cause his grace to be bound so far from his reach. The angel has fallen before, experienced the slow burn of his grace shrivelling and dying inside him. The experience of the night before was nothing like that.

He takes a moment to revel in his returned grace, to feel the way that it slides through his vessel and his being a way that he takes great comfort in. It does not take long, however, for worry to override the relief that he feels. Nothing makes sense, nothing about the night before, nothing about this morning. Castiel is in the middle of a war and he cannot afford to be distracted by an outside factor.

Which is exactly what is happening.

Castiel _wants_ to brush it off, he wants to tell himself that turning into a grace bound female was a one time thing. He cannot. It plays on his mind throughout the day, even during his meeting with Balthazar. His old friend seems less that concerned about Castiel's disappearance, less than concerned about the strange transformation or the fact that for a night the angel was completely helpless.

It stays with Castiel, however, a niggling little worry that does not grow smaller as the day passes. Whatever did this to him is powerful, something that he needs to gain control of before Raphael finds out about it. If such a mystical weapon were to fall into the archangel's hands not even all the weapons in Heaven will help Castiel and his band of renegades because as soon as it is used to bind them to weaker, graceless, vessels Raphael and his people will be able to slaughter them all. Whether it happens to the angel again or not, Castiel knows that they _have_ to find out what caused the change.

Balthazar laughs it off as the sun is setting, his eyes dancing with barely suppressed amusement.

"I'm sure it was a one off, Cas, and you know we don't have the resources to dedicate to it."

Castiel is well aware of that, if he were to be given a choice he would brush the possibility of another attack upon one of them away. Their lack of resources, however, could prove to be their undoing and this weapon could be as useful to them as it could be to Raphael. It is not a point that he gets to make, though, because as the sun touches on the horizon and the violet black of night descends over them Castiel doubles over with pain once more, feels his vessel changing and warping under him as he is torn from the house they have been hiding in.

SPN

Dean is driving when he hears a low moan and a thump from the backseat of the Impala. A glance up into the rear view mirror, as Sam twists in his seat to look behind him, gives Dean a glimpse of a half familiar trench coat and messy black hair. He swears and the car swerves as he half turns to confirm what the mirror is telling him.

He corrects the car quickly, pulling over as he hears Castiel's now more feminine groan as she begins to return to consciousness. As soon as he has turned off the engine the hunter is out of the car and opening the back door so that he can check Cas over, see and feel the soft curves and smooth cheeks. Blue eyes stare back at him blearily and he watches as realisation dawns in them while he mutters the angel's name to encourage her to wake up fully.

The words that fall from her lips are not English, but nor are they ones that Dean thinks she would use in normal, polite, angel society. Confusion and anger burns across her features and her delicate hands come up to grasp at his jacket.

"_Why_ is this happening, Dean?" She demands.

The trouble is Dean is as much in the dark about this as Cas. He has even less idea of what is going on than his friend does but he does know that this must be scaring the angel. Castiel has never much liked being helpless, nor does she particularly like being forced to do something against her will. Castiel the angel has a terrible temper, Dean has been on the receiving end of it often enough, but it appears that Castiel the woman has one just as bad.

"How would _I_ know?" Dean asks in return, gently pulling her hands from his jacket so that he can move away now that he knows that she is as alright as she is going to get right now. "Did you manage to find out anything about it today?"

"No," there is a tone of almost petulance to her voice as she speaks, her blue eyes latching onto his with that same intensity that they have always had. It is an intensity that has always set something smouldering in Dean, before he has always blamed it on Castiel's grace but now he knows that is not the case. It is troubling. "I'm fighting a war and it's not going well. I don't have the time or the resources to look into it."

"Alright," Dean replies, getting to his feet, "we'll stop at the next motel and start researching it some more." What he means is _Sam_ can research it some more while Dean contacts Bobby to find out if their friend has any idea what could cause something like this.

This is not to say that Dean will not do his share of the research, but they can get more done if they get Bobby involved as well. Whatever it is that is causing this is something obscure. Finding it is going to be hard and take a long while and Dean is painfully aware that the longer this continues for the more danger Castiel will be in. Dean is not the sort to let his friends suffer when they request for help, they have to _ask_ though because he is not the most observant of people when it comes to human emotion.

The next motel is not far, fortunately, and Castiel's ability to walk in heels has not improved overly since the night before. Dean is not sure why he thought it might be otherwise. Castiel is a fast learner, but she did not get a lot of practice walking the night before. After she stumbles a third time Dean reaches out and takes her elbow to steady her. If looks could kill, and if Castiel still had access to her grace, Dean is fairly certain that there would be a bloody splatter on the tarmac in his place right now.

"Wouldn't want you to break your leg on top of everything else," he smirks at her. The hurt expression on her face immediately takes the fun out of his teasing and leaves him with a momentary pang of guilt at mocking her. He brushes it aside with a half casual shrug as she pulls her arm from his grasp and totters to the door of the room that the three of them will share for the night. Sam spares Dean a brief glare as they follow Castiel and the three of them settle in for another long night.

_Told you it would't be that easy._

_Artemis  
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	5. Chapter 5

_Wrote this on a beach in the glorious sunlight. About halfway through I got an email confirming that at the Asylum 6 convention I'll be having a J2 photo op. The other beach goers were disturbed my my cry of "Oh, Chuck, _yes_!" even though I was very much alone. Lesson to be learnt there I think._

The motel room is almost stiflingly warm, the tailored cut of her shirt seems imprisoning and restrictive. Her tie, jacket and trench coat have long since been removed at Dean's insistence in the interest of her comfort. Something about the way that his eyes linger on her when he thinks her unaware, however, makes her want to reach for them again so that she can cover herself against his gaze.

The blood is pounding in her temples, a dull throb of pain that has been increasing for over an hour. The heavy book on her knee is a dead weight and the letters on the page are beginning to blur as the pounding in her skull increases in tempo. Across the room Sam's typing is an irritatingly irregular rhythm broken only by periods of near silence as he reads and the clicking of the mouse. Opposite her Dean's voice is a low hum, infuriating and reassuring all at once, as he tells Bobby what is going on and compares theories.

No matter what has happened to her in the past, who she was or who she is becoming, she knows that she can trust Dean to help her completely. Castiel has to pray, however, that this whole situation is not going to get them all killed.

"Cas, did you hear me?" Dean is leaning closer to her, cell phone held loosely in his hand. She stares at him, amazed that she could have missed the fact that the hunter's attention was on her when in the past she has been capable of taking note of so many different things at one time.

"My apologies, I..." She stops as a wave of nausea rushes over her.

"You okay?" Dean asks, placing a hand on her shoulder as he once would have done when he was trying to make her understand a less urgent point. The moment of physical contact is soothing, and sends a jolt through her vessel that Castiel has felt around Dean a few times before with no understanding of the meaning. Now it terrifies her and she shakes the hand away with a flash of pain and annoyance.

"A headache," she growls and sees Dean nod in understanding.

"I'll get you something for it," he offers getting to his feet and going to root through his bag.

"I don't _need_ anything," she insists. "It's a minor irritation that will fade on it's own."

"You need to listen to your body, Cas," Sam chimes in. "You're human at the moment and you can't take any risks."

"Risk of _what_ exactly?" Castiel snaps. "I'm supposed to be fighting a _war_, Sam, I don't have the _time_ to be spending my nights as a human. I can't stop looking for an answer just because of the ridiculous demands of this limited vessel."

Castiel knows Sam well enough to know that the younger Winchester has been working up a retort. The expression directed at the bound angel is similar to the one that Sam often directs at Dean. It is the expression usually seen when the elder Winchester is being particularly dense or stubborn. This is not the first time that it has been directed at Castiel, but she is not in the mood for discussion or expectation. She simply wants to find a solution for her current predicament.

"Here," Dean hands her two white pills and a glass. "The quicker you take them the faster we can get back at it." He glares over his shoulder at Sam and Castiel once again gets to witness that wordless ability to communicate with each other that they seem to share.

Without her grace and with no way to communicate with her own allies and family she finds herself feeling oddly envious. It makes her realise that not only have Sam and Dean taught her the value of free will, they have also taught her how to sin. Dean, though, is the one primarily responsible for the latter. Probably, she thinks, she should regret that. It comes as something of a surprise to find that she does not.

"What about Balthazar?" Sam asks suddenly, looking intently at Castiel as his mind turns over whatever realisation that has come to him.

"I doubt even Balthazar would find an advantage in doing this to me," her reply is calm but some part of her clenches tight with concern. Though her statement is true, sometimes Balthazar does things simply because he _wants_ to rather than as a part of their war effort.

"Probably not," Dean grumbles though he does not look convinced, "but I'll bet he'll have an idea of who _might_."

About _that_ Castiel has no doubt. Over the last couple of years Balthazar has gathered a number of more unsavoury contacts. If spoken to the right way he could be convinced to see what information they can give him.

"It's a long shot," Sam admits, "he might not come, or he may just decide that he doesn't feel like sharing."

"Oh, he'll share alright," Dean promises darkly and Castiel has to wonder how the hunter intends to make that happen. After all Balthazar is faster and stronger.

Castiel performs the summoning spell herself, aware that the sound of _her_ voice rather than one of the Winchesters will intrigue her friend. It is a tense wait until they hear the rush of unseen wings.

"Well would you _look_ at you."

_Artemis_


	6. Chapter 6

_So, I said this in my AN for The Words I've Spoken, but I'll say it here too. I'm getting these chapters out so quickly at the moment because I have to start focusing on the serious novel; the one that I at least attempt to get published. To do that I need to get all my fanfic finished and out of the way so that I'm not being constantly distracted with it and have given myself until the end of May to do so. Which means that updates will be fairly rapid and random. Hope you all enjoy!_

"Well would you _look_ at you."

Castiel has known Balthazar for a long time, she knows how to read her brother even though the majority of human emotions baffle her. While Dean tends to be very demonstrative of his more powerful emotions, Balthazar tends to react more calmly. His rage is like ice rather than the fire of the Winchesters and there is no evidence of that here. In fact, at the moment Balthazar could not appear more relaxed or unconcerned about the situation. His smile is lascivious and he rakes his eyes up Castiel's body in a way that makes her very nervous.

What surprises her the most, however, is that Dean also notices the meaning behind Balthazar's gaze. The hunter takes a step forward with his hands fisted at his sides and his shoulders tense. It is almost as though he is expecting a fight.

"_Relax_, lover boy," Balthazar smirks, "I've got other things to worry about right now." He looks at the three of them and Castiel knows that he is taking in Dean's obvious aggression towards him as well as Sam's surprise at his older brother's response to the angel.

While it is true that Dean and Balthazar do not exactly _like_ each other, this goes a little further than simple distaste. Not for the first time Castiel finds herself baffled and frustrated by human emotions. At the moment, though, she simply wishes that she understood the aggressive display taking place in front of her.

"What did you do to Cas?" Dean demands, his voice seeming lower than usual and his eyes burning with anger.

"I'm hurt," Balthazar replies, moving to walk around Castiel so that he can look at her a little more closely, as though he is looking for some sort of clue about how this has been done to her. "Do you really think that I would be stupid enough to curse my own brother in the middle of a civil war?" He seems to catch a hint of something on Dean's face. "Probably better that you don't answer that."

"Do you have any idea what _might_ have done it?" Sam asks, his stance and tone lacks aggression entirely. Castiel knows that Sam is as suspicious of Balthazar as Dean is, but he is the brother who believes more in the theory of innocent until proven guilty.

"No," there is tiniest hint of irritation in Balthazar's voice now, "I've tried to get hold of all my contacts but most of them aren't responding. Some of them even threatened me." Dean snorts in amusement and the angel glares at him. "As soon as Cassi, here, disappeared for a second time I knew that I needed to take this transformation a little bit more seriously. It's hardly a surprise that I've found her here with you."

"What are you implying, Balthazar?" Castiel is shocked to realise that there is a weariness in her voice, one that colours her words with a half sigh and a great deal of impatience.

"Nothing at all, dear sister," she finds that she does not like the mocking tone, "but let's just say that I'm surprised that he's managed to keep his hands to himself."

Castiel has to take a moment before she fully understands what her brother is implying, but when she does she completely comprehends the anger in Dean's face when he takes another step forward. The anger that forces Sam to restrain him given that attacking Balthazar with his bare hands would be monumentally stupid.

"Can you even think of _anything_ that might be able to do this?" Castiel snaps, drawing attention from Dean and back on to herself.

"A couple of things, but they would all leave marks on the skin of your vessel." The angel smirks at Dean again. "Noticed anything? Or would you like _me_ to check for you?"

"I'm sure Cas is more than capable of checking for herself," Sam tells them both, stepping in to stop the bickering. "How about we ask her? I mean, she's stood right there."

Everyone turns to look at her, Dean looks slightly sheepish and is evidently made uncomfortable by his behaviour. The hunter has never needed to defend her in this way before, though he has always had her back in a fight, and she finds that his drive to protect her in this way fills her with a kind of warmth. Having her emotions so close to the surface is going to get her into a great deal of trouble she realises.

"What kind of mark?" She asks, taking a step closer to Dean in the hope that her proximity to him may help to calm the hunter.

"A burn or an open wound. Honestly, Cassi, I don't mind helping you check." Balthazar leers at her again and Castiel sighs. They are not going to get any further tonight with Balthazar deliberately goading Dean into a more belligerent state than usual and Castiel can feel the vicious pounding of her headache beginning to make itself known again.

"I would rather you continue to try and get hold of your sources. I will manage." She thinks for a moment. If this is going to be a long term problem they will need to talk tactics and it is not a discussion that she is looking forward to having. Though this curse would be inconvenient at the best of times, this is the worst possible stage for it to strike. Balthazar nods though he is clearly unhappy with her decision. "One other thing," she say before he can vanish, "don't try to contact me unless I summon you. If this is Raphael's work she'll have spies everywhere looking for me."

"If that's the way you want it," Balthazar nods but she can tell that she has offended him somehow. It is not something that she has time to worry about right now and he is gone in between the beats of her heart, his wings creating a gentle breeze that caresses her cheeks as he leaves.

Castiel is silent as the brothers start debating, Dean saying that they should not trust Balthazar and Sam pointing out that they do not have much of a choice in the matter. The bound angel listens for a long moment and then excuses herself to the small bathroom. It is not the most attractive room that she has ever been in, the walls tiled in a colour that was once cream but is now closer to brown. The back of the mirror is peeling at the edges, lending a mottled and decayed effect to her reflection. She watches as she carefully slides buttons undone, watches her shirt fall open to expose a plain and sensible white bra and pale creamy skin.

The faint scarring from her attempt to rescue Dean and Adam both from Zachariah is still evident on her chest, curves and lines that are oddly distorted and broken with the changes of her body. She twists and turns in the mirror, sliding off the sensible slacks so that she can look at her legs. There is no sign of an open wound or a burn. Nothing to hint at what may have caused her transformation. It is with a profound disappointment that she dresses herself again and goes out to tell the Winchesters the bad news. They are no closer to getting an answer.

It never once occurs to her that she did not look _under_ her bra.

_Artemis_


	7. Chapter 7

_I should be in bed right now, but I wanted to get this finished and up so here I am. It's a little bit of a filler, but also sets up the next couple of chapters. I have plans for this one as well and apparently it's going to get bigger than I thought. I thought this would last about eight chapters, I'm already over that. Yay._

Even though Balthazar has said that he has nothing to do with Castiel's odd transformations Dean cannot help but think that the angel is lying. While Castiel is right in her assertion that Balthazar could have no possible reason for such a risky prank, Dean is certain that the angel knows more than he is letting on. At the moment, however, he is more focussed on the need to find a solution to the problem rather than the source of it.

With the rising of the morning sun Castiel's vessel reverts to that of the male angel, grace and all, and the angel disappears without so much as a '_goodbye'_. Not even a '_thank you'_ and if this were not the usual for the angel Dean would feel hurt and a little used. Given that this is simply another facet of human behaviour that Castiel refuses to acknowledge Dean barely even bothers to comment on it any longer. It does not make it any less irritating, but it is something that the hunter has become grudgingly accustomed to.

Bobby is no more able to find a reason for the strange changes in Castiel's vessel than the brothers are and as the days pass Dean finds himself putting more and more of his energy into research and less of it into driving. With each passing night he can see Cas becoming more and more frustrated, listening less to the needs of her human body and frequently she falls asleep over Sam's laptop long after both brothers have been forced to retire for the night. The situation is taking it's toll on all of them as the time passes, as two days turn into ten, and eventually Dean announces one evening that they all need to take a break.

The constant research is getting them nowhere and all it is serving to do is make them all tired and short with one another. Besides, the brothers Winchester have another problem to worry about, need to find a way to stop the Mother of All from succeeding where the angels have so far failed. With so much hanging over them Dean can't help but want to take one night for himself, one night that may be the last chance he gets for a long time to enjoy himself. All work and no play, after all, and Dean has always been a fan of playing.

Cas, of course, objects, just as Dean knew that she would. Being human again is trying for the angel, especially when she has become accustomed to full command of her mojo during the day. Getting used to the limits of a body that is so foreign to her must be difficult but it is something that Dean knows that he has no hope of understanding. After ten days of searching, however, they have hit a wall and they need some time to sit and regroup. They need a different place to think. Amazingly, Sam agrees.

"It's one night, Cas," the younger Winchester insists. "You never know, we might come up with something."

Truth be told, Sam is already fairly certain that he has found the answer and has even made mention of it to his brother. The trouble is that the reason for the change is completely absurd and the potential solution one that he does not think can be met with ease. Dean has not mentioned it to Castiel, has not told the angel about Sam's suspicions, because he does not want to give her false hope. Nor does he want the solution to seem unobtainable. They just need time to think of an alternative and to do that they need to look at this from a fresh perspective.

The bar that they head to is certainly not the nicest one in town, quite possibly it is not the worst that they have gone to but it comes close. It is crowded, however, noisy enough to keep the casual eavesdropper from listening in on a conversation that would seem insane to the average person but not so much so that they have trouble talking at a normal level.

"We need to tell her, Dean," Sam says when Castiel has gone to the ladies-room, "she needs to know what we've found out."

"What if we're _wrong_, Sam?" Dean demands, "and even if we aren't this isn't a damn fairytale! Prince Charming isn't going to just pop out of the woodwork and _fix_ this."

"We aren't coming up with any better ideas either. If we at least give Cas this maybe it'll give her a couple of other ideas where to look," Sam keeps his voice reasonable and Dean pulls a face. It is not that he does not get where Sam is coming from here, it is simply that he is worried about what failure will do to his friend.

He has spent a great deal of time worrying about that lately; Castiel's feelings and reactions to things. It is not something that Dean would have thought about before, when Castiel was a 'he' and so distant after his return to Heaven to fight a war. It baffles him the way that his attitude towards the angel is shifting the more accustomed he gets to seeing Cas as a woman rather than a man. Seeing her like this, confused and frustrated, trapped in an unfamiliar body and restrained by the limitations of humanity makes Dean's heart swell in sympathy for her. Knowing that she would not want his pity, Dean has translated the emotion into something that is rather more over protective than it should be. It frightens him.

As a woman Castiel is shorter than Dean still, even wearing her heels, her body is petite and delicate. She is attractive like this and Dean knows that he has to be careful because one day she will be a 'he' again and that will definitely cause problems.

"Alright," he says after a long moment of thought. "We'll tell her." He looks around, realising that it has been a while since they last saw her. "Where _is_ Cas, anyway?"

_Artemis_


	8. Chapter 8

_Oh, Chuck! Mommy Dearest broke my heart at the end I don't know about how the rest of you feel. Dean was horrible to Cas in a lot of that, even though it's clear how much Cas does care about Dean. Then again, some fantastic Destiel moments too. It's strange how a lot of my notes for this fic have meshed with everything we learnt during that episode. Scary actually, given that I've written my final scene and the clue by four scene too. Just need to move on and get them there. Maybe twelve chapters to this one. Still can't believe I'm writing a genderbend, though._

Castiel is coming to despise the time when she is human. Weak and all but useless without her grace she hates having to rely on the kindness and good nature of Sam and Dean. There only so much time until she becomes a burden upon them, after all, only so long until they are no longer willing to help her. She thinks that she fears _that_ more than anything else.

Already Dean treats her differently, alternating between almost cruel teasing and strangely tender concern. She finds that she responds better to the teasing than she does to the quiet solicitude. At least when he teases her she can respond with quick flashes of anger and harsh words of her own. To see her own deep hurt mirrored in his eyes is something that she finds little satisfaction in, but it is almost reassuring to know that she can hurt him as badly as he hurts her. It is at least better than her feeling that strange flutter she feels every time he shows his concern for her. She has never known how to respond to that, even during the times that she has experienced it in her male vessel.

The bound angel sighs in frustration, splashing cold water on her face as she stares into the mirror above the sink in the ladies-room. More often than not, these days, her thoughts linger on the hunter and the strange changes in his behaviour. It is more than a little annoying and she is determined to put a stop to it. She cannot keep thinking about the hunter when she has more immediate concerns. She cannot keep thinking about him when she has to recover her grace and win a war.

One of the other women in the room throws her a strange look, one part concerned and three parts confused. Castiel supposes that she has been in there for longer than is customary, and human customs are still very confusing to her, and she dries her hands briefly before leaving. Always before she has been oblivious to the looks of others, ignorant of the way that they see her and the way that they treat her. It has never mattered in the past, kindness something human and irrelevant and their judgements neither needed or wanted. Human as she is at this moment, however, the opinions of others seems to be affecting her more and more.

She does not want the approval of the nameless humans around her, she realises, she only wants the approval of the ones that matter to her. The thought is terrifying, crippling, and it makes her pause in her journey back to the table she is sharing with her friends. That moment of hesitant contemplation is interrupted by a hand on her hip, hot even through her ever present trench coat, and warm breath on her neck. Nothing more than instinct tells her that this is _not_ one of her friends and it is only confirmed by the voice of the man who speaks.

"New in town?" Quite probably it is one of the oldest lines in the world, not that Castiel would know that, but the tone that it is muttered in is cause enough for concern.

"Passing through," she tells him, trying to move away and becoming more worried when his grip on her shifts to her arms and tightens. "I need to get back to my friends."

In this body she is unsure of her strength, uncertain about whether or not she will be able to break free. A glance behind her confirms that he is much larger than her, heavy set and vicious looking. It does not fill her with confidence in her own abilities. Still, she makes an attempt to get away from him and winces when she feels his fingers grip her tighter still.

"Let me go," she orders, channelling all the confidence that her nature as an angel commands even though she does not feel it at this moment. He laughs, a sound which dies rather suddenly.

"Do as she says," Castiel recognises Dean's voice, even over the din of the bar and her worry about what this man intends for her. "Do as she says or I'll cut them both off." Castiel has no doubt in her mind that Dean actually _would_ remove the hands of this man if he refused to release her. It makes her both afraid of and attracted to this damaged man. Regardless of her emotions, however, she is released rapidly and Dean moves quickly to her side, placing his hand at the small of her back and leading her back to the table.

The warmth of the hunter's hand is different to the other that has so recently been at her hip. It is comforting and almost familiar. A gentle weight that she both craves and fears. It is not something that she should be allowing herself to experience. It is not something that she should be putting herself in a position to desire.

"You okay?" Dean asks as soon as they are sat down with Sam, the younger Winchester appears concerned but there is something in his eyes as he looks between the two of them that makes Castiel wonder if there is not something else to the worry.

"I'm fine," she already knows that it is the correct response to the question, already knows that it is what they expect from her so the hunter's next question comes as a surprise.

"You sure he didn't hurt you?" Dean demands.

"I'm not completely helpless," she snaps, misunderstanding the purpose behind the question.

"I _know_ that, I was just..." Dean trails off and glares at her for a long moment. "Forget it." He hisses finally. "Just forget it. Look, we found something and Sam thinks you should know about it."

"But you don't?" It is not hard to see the way that Dean shifts, the awkward way that he sits and the way that he will not meet her eyes as he says it. It is not hard to understand that he might be worried about being wrong. It is just hard for her to figure out _why_. If they are wrong they can try again until they find the solution. It does not occur to her for a moment that it may be a difficult task to accomplish.

"Look, it's a fairytale, alright?" The words are snapped and the hunter takes a breath to continue before he is cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. A glance at the screen draws a mutter from him before he answers. "Lisa?" There is a moment when Castiel can hear the woman's hysterical voice on the other end of the line. Dean excuses himself with a wave of his hand, moving to the door and disappearing outside.

Castiel turns her attention to Sam, tilting her head curiously as the younger man shifts a little restlessly. He seems nervous and she has to wonder why he is so twitchy. Eventually he tells her what they have found, tells her what they think it might be that has affected her so. It is their suspicion of what could _break_ it that is perplexing.

"True love's first kiss," Sam says finally. "What's happening to you sounds like something out of a fairytale and it's going to take something from a fairytale to break it. I'm just not sure which one it is yet."

Castiel does not understand, can freely admit that she does not see the significance of it. It sounds like an impossible dream, an ideal that is not even remotely obtainable. From everything that the angel has seen true love is a romantic idea that humanity clings to in order to validate the strings of bad relationships and broken dreams that follow most of them through their lives. She can see, now, why Dean was so reluctant to tell her. The sheer scale of what they will have to do, the almost impossible chore of finding love in her circumstances, is overwhelming.

"We'll keep working on it," Sam assures her. "Bobby disagrees with us anyway so he's still looking, and there's a lot of options we haven't looked at yet."

"This is just the one that seems the most likely?" She tilts her head, not bothering to keep the confusion from her face, mostly because she is not entirely sure how but also because she knows that honesty is best in this instance.

"Yeah," Sam seems to study her, something flickering in his eyes, "there's more to this than you changing into a woman, though. I just can't make sense of it at the moment."

Of course there is more to it, even Castiel is aware of that. There is the simple question of why she always seems to come to the Winchesters every time she changes, the disorientation of transforming and the fear that it will eventually happen when she is in the middle of a fight. Just the possibility of it is terrifying.

"Ben's missing," Dean says as he sits back at the table. The previous conversation is obviously the last thing on his mind and Castiel knows that he is now more concerned about the woman who took him in and her son than he is about the angel's predicament. One of her biggest fears is now coming to pass. Dean has found something else, _someone_ else, to concern himself with and Castiel will fall by the wayside until he is ready to focus on her again. It hurts, tugs at her heart in a way that makes her feel nauseous and lost, to think that she is so easily discarded.

"Go," Sam tells his brother, voice low with concern and empathy. "Cas and I can deal with this on our own for a couple of days. Go help Lisa."

Dean glances at Sam once, nodding brokenly and his face carries all of his worry for everyone to see. In this moment Castiel knows that the hunter genuinely loves and cares about Lisa and her son. In this moment Castiel wonders what is to become of her and if she will ever be the one to prompt that expression on the face of another. When Dean looks at _her_, however, his eyes carry an apology, an offer to stay if Castiel wants him to and she cannot be that selfish. Even though she knows that Dean's empathy can be crippling, that it will probably mean the death of him one day, she will not be selfish in this moment. Dean will not put his all into finding the answer that she needs. He will worry and fret over the boy and Castiel would rather not be reminded every time that she sees him that she falls so far down on his list of priorities.

Instead she agrees with Sam, tells him to go, and ignores the agony she feels at seeing the relief in his eyes.

_Artemis_


	9. Chapter 9

_I meant to have this up sooner, but Friday's episode killed my brain and then I went out for the weekend and drank plenty of booze. Then I made the mistake of getting into '_A Game Of Thrones_.' Not my best plan ever. Regardless, here's the next bit, a little bit filler and a little bit of a lead up to the moment of realisation for at least one of these bone headed idiots. Geeze, Dean is hard to work with at the moment._

Dean drives through the night to get to Lisa, almost pushing the Impala harder than he ever has. This is one of his worst fears, that someone or something will try to use Lisa and Ben against him. He curses himself for _ever_ thinking of going to Lisa in the first place. A hunter is a hunter for life, no matter how long or short it may be, and there is no escaping it. The know too much and have seen too much for that.

It is just after eight in the morning when Dean arrives at Lisa's door, parking outside the house and crossing the lawn at a jog. It does not occur to him, even once, to wonder why Lisa has called him and not Dr. Matt, the new boyfriend. As it turns out the boyfriend is already there, face confused when he sees Dean as he opens the door and then jealous when Lisa pushes past him and buries her tear streaked face in Dean's chest.

"Lis, what's going on?" Dean asks as he wraps his arms around her. Truth be told, he has missed this, missed having a warm body pressed against his. The sense of belonging is gone, though, if it was ever there at all. Dean has been too long away hunting, it would seem, too long alone.

"Ben didn't come home from school yesterday," Lisa tells him, eyes red raw from crying and yet still wet with unshed tears."At first I thought something had taken him, but then we found this." Whilst it is nice to know that Dean is not the only one paranoid enough to worry about a monster _taking_ Ben, what Lisa hands him is somehow worse to see.

Apparently Ben dislikes Matt enough to take matters into his own hands. It seems that rather than try to pull one over on Dean again Ben has done the next best thing. The kid has run away and from the wording of his note Dean has a horrible feeling that he knows where the boy is going.

"I'll find him," he tells Lisa, flipping open his cell phone so that he can give Bobby a heads up. The crochety old hunter is less than impressed but he agrees to keep an eye out in case Ben actually _makes_ it to South Dakota before Dean catches up with him.

Dean spends about six hours driving in the hopes of spotting Ben and waiting on a call from Bobby. Finally, he comes to the conclusion that this search is too much, too large, for him alone. Ben is a single boy who could have taken one of any number of routes and he knows that this method of searching is not going to get him anywhere. Dean pulls the car over, closes his eyes, and _prays_.

"What is it, Dean?" The sound of Castiel's normal, gruff, voice makes something in the hunter's chest leap. _This_ is the Cas that he knows, the frustrated angel in a man-suit with the voice that seems to strike at Dean's soul. This is not the dejected Castiel who is all soft angles and agony filled eyes. Male Castiel is _safe_, a known and untouchable quantity, female Castiel is tempting and Dean is enough of a man to admit that to himself.

"Ben's missing," Dean tells him without thinking, remembering only after he says it that Cas is already aware of that fact. He does not miss the flash of irritation on the angel's face. "I need you to help me find him."

"_Dean_, the sun will set in a few hours, I don't have time for this and I don't know how much help I can be." At least, Dean figures, Castiel has not come out and simply told him that he is not going to help. It is just going to take a little more work to talk him into it, just as it has with everything over the last several months. Not for the first time Dean finds himself wishing that he knew what was going on with the angel. Not for the first time Dean wishes that he could help this being that has become so important to him.

"I know, okay, but could you at least _look_? The kid's on his own out there and I have to find him." Castiel glares at him for a long moment. "_Fine_, if you're not going to help..."

"I didn't say that I wouldn't help you," Castiel interrupts. "I simply stated that it would be inconvenient and that I don't know if I will be able to find the boy before the sun sets. You should have called me sooner." It does not seem to matter to the angel that they still have several hours of day light to go, nor does Castiel linger long enough to say goodbye.

It is several hours before Cas returns, hours where Dean waits and drives and glances at the sun's position in the sky as he worries that time will run out on them. When the angel _does_ return it is only two hours from sunset and the shoulder of his trench coat is soaked with blood. Cas is pale and apparently shaken and it is a shock to see him like this, still bleeding and sallow skinned. Dean pulls over without thinking, reaching to examine the wound and scowling when Castiel brushes him away.

"It will heal," Cas growls. "I don't have much time to tell you this: the boy is at a diner five miles east of you."

"What happened to you?" Dean demands, starting to drive again and hoping that Castiel is right. He is not sure whether he is thinking about the angel's injury or Ben, however.

"I was ambushed while I searched for the boy," is the grumbled reply. "As I said, it will heal." Dean nods as he turns a corner and pulls into the diner parking lot. When he looks to his side again Castiel is gone and all Dean can do is hope that the angel has sense enough to go to Sam later. The hunter's frustrated mutterings are interrupted by Ben's emergence from the diner. Dean is out of the Impala and slamming the door behind him before he has even really thought about it. Every instinct in him is screaming at him to get the boy in the car and get him back to Lisa. Something is very wrong, he realises, and as much as he _wants_ to think that it is directed at Ben, he _knows_ that it is something to do with Castiel.

He settles for grabbing the kid by the collar as he is about to clamber into a truck. He is relieved that he has found Ben unharmed and as safe as he could possibly have been, but that does not mean that he is about to forget about all the worry and fear that the boy has caused. Even the obvious joy on Ben's face when he realises who has grabbed him cannot lessen Dean's anger in this moment and that happiness fades when the boy notices the hunter's expression.

"Get in the damn car!" Dean snaps, stalking back to the Impala and flinging open the passenger side. "Do you have _any_ idea how worried your mom is about you?"

"It was the only way to make her notice," Ben responds sullenly, peering at the upholstery and pulling a face. "Is that blood?"

"Son of bitch," Dean hisses as he get back into the car and takes a look. The bloodstain is fresh, obviously one left by Cas, and it makes him more impatient to get Ben back to Lisa. Now, however, it is because he wants to check on Castiel as soon as possible and not due to his own worry about the boy. "Just get in." He orders and Ben barely has the door closed before Dean is tearing away.

It takes them an hour and half to get back to Lisa's and when Dean arrives she insists on him coming in for a beer before he hits the road again. Try though he might, Dean cannot think of an excuse to give her that does not sound completely lame. Besides which, Matt the doctor is nowhere to be seen and Dean finds himself thinking a lot less of the man who would leave his frantic girlfriend alone.

Everything is going fine, if a little more awkwardly than he would like, when there is a crash from the kitchen and the sound of a woman groaning in agony.

_I'll try to update before Asylum 6 fries what little remains of my brain. No promises though._

_Artemis_


	10. Chapter 10

_Oh, hai! I made it back from Asylum 6 and my brain is sort of intact. Bits of it may have been killed though. A certain, very good, friend of mine printed out a copy of A Path To Explode In Flames and got it signed by Richard for me. Single most awesome thing anyone has done for me. He has a copy of it now too. And he remembered me when I went in for my photo op with him. Easily the best weekend ever and I can't believe I've plugged my brain back in enough to write this._

_In other news, Cindy Sampson is absolutely amazing and very funny. She was a complete riot all weekend and a total sweetheart. The boys are still a million times better looking in real life than they are on screen and don't even get me started on what Brock Kelly did to my insides. Anyway, onwards!_

Dean Winchester is practically the poster child for paranoia sometimes, Lisa thinks. As soon as they hear the noise in the kitchen he is gesturing for her to keep still and reaching for the gun that she knows he has tucked in the back of his jeans. Having lived with him for a year she knows that it is unreasonable to think that he would have abandoned that practice at any point. She even understands it. She just wishes that he had not felt it necessary to bring one into her home with him.

Although he has silently instructed her not to follow, Lisa is determined not to take orders from him in her own house. She follows Dean to the kitchen and so she gets to see that completely vulnerable moment when he sees the woman slumped against the cupboard door under the sink. Her long dark hair is matted at the end, dark and wet with blood. Her skin is pale, drawn, her eyes half open but clearly a brilliant blue. The shoulder of the tan trench coat that she wears is soaked with the same blood that has apparently drenched her hair.

It is not the clothes or the blood that catch Lisa's immediate attention, however, it is the way that Dean's face flickers with worry. The way that something greater than concern flashes through his eyes and the slight tremble in his hand as he tucks the gun away. To one who does not know him as well, or someone who did not know what to look for, this brief moment of naked emotion would go unnoticed. To Lisa it is something that screams out the answers to questions that she has barely dared to ask herself.

It is amazing how much it hurts to come to this realisation.

Dean is tender with the woman when he kneels next to her, the gentle caress of the backs of his fingers on her cheeks as he tries to rouse her. There is the break in his voice as he mutters her name, calling softly to her repeatedly, and Lisa knows that she should go to try and help him, but her first thought is to wonder where she got the impression that Castiel was a man.

"Thank God," Dean breathes as Castiel stirs and opens her eyes fully.

"My Father has little to do with it," she mumbles. Blue eyes stare at Lisa for a long moment before they slide back to the hunter.

"Can you move?" He asks her. "I'm going to have to look at that shoulder." There is a tightness to Dean's face now, one that tells Lisa that he is angry about something.

"I'll get the first aid kit," she pipes up. They are staring at one another now, a deep stare that seems almost soul searching and there is something vaguely beseeching about Castiel's expression. Either way it is making Lisa uncomfortable to see and she needs a reason to walk away. Dean seems to acknowledge her for the first time and there is that flicker of vulnerability again that she has so rarely seen. Then he nods and she escapes the charged environment to run to the bathroom.

The woman settles herself on the edge of the bath for a moment once she has taken the first aid kit out of the cabinet and takes a few deeps breaths. She has never seen Dean like that before, so open and angry and lost, not even when he came to her after Sam died. She has never seen that kind of emotion fill his eyes when he looks at her and she realises that both of them were only hiding behind an illusion of a good life. Dean made a good father figure for Ben, a good partner for her, but this home has been little more than a safe haven for the hunter when he needed it. Whatever Dean _thinks_ he feels for Lisa is completely eclipsed by the emotions in his eyes when he found Castiel in Lisa's kitchen.

She is slowly coming to realise where she comes in the list of people in Dean's life and it certainly is not at the top any more.

It takes a moment for her to pull herself together, to get the sudden rush of total loss under control. Lisa thought that she had moved on, as it turns out she is wrong about that. Matt is a wonderful man, but there is something about Dean that never fails to wriggle under her skin. Something about him that draws her in and seeps into her brain. She finds the hunter irresistible and even though she knows that he is bad for her something in the woman keeps on coming back to him. Dean is lost to her now, however, and she knows that it is better that way. Before she returns to the kitchen she makes a side trip to her room and pulls an old t-shirt and pair of sweat pants out of a drawer. Castiel will need something to wear, after all.

When she gets back into the kitchen Dean has moved Castiel to one of the stools and obviously helped her out of her coat and shirt. One of her old towels is in his hands and it is blood stained as he wipes around the wound. She sees Castiel flinch a little as Dean moves the towel over the wound and she can see now that it is a clean cut. There is a competence to the way that Dean works and she knows that it is something that comes from long experience.

"Here," she puts the kit on the counter within easy reach and steps back. It is strange to feel so out of place in her own home, but somehow they have managed to achieve that.

"Thanks, Lis," Dean's response is heartfelt but distracted and there is an undercurrent of tension now that was not here when she left the room. "You told me this would heal, Cas."

"It was an angel's blade, Dean, they are _far_ more effective than any of your weapons," her tone is snide and though Lisa does not understand the entire conversation she does know that this is obviously a sore point for both. "If I'd had more time to _rest_ I would have been able to heal more sufficiently before this ludicrous transformation took place."

"It's going to need stitches," he replies.

"Leave it," Castiel snaps and Dean glares at her. "I'll heal it in the morning, the stitches would only get in the way."

They are staring at one another again, the woman's eyes are hard and Dean's face is absolutely set. This is an almost titanic clash of wills and Lisa is not sure that she wants to see it.

"I'm putting a bandage on it at least," he gripes finally, "I won't have you bleeding on the upholstery." Lisa has to laugh at that, she knows how highly Dean values that car and there is very little that will make him let the inside get dirty. Castiel throws him a bleak look but she does not try to stop him and there is once again silence.

"Here," Lisa says when Dean lets Castiel hop off the stool and steadies her when she sways, "put some clean clothes on. You'll feel better for it."

"Thank you," Castiel seems to be attempting to sound grateful but Lisa is certain that she is more confused than anything. Still, she stops Dean when he tries to follow his friend by placing her hand on his arm.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" She asks the question as soon as she is certain that Castiel is not in hearing range, but still keeps her voice low.

"What?" Dean seems genuinely surprised by the question. "No, she's not even... Most of the time she's a he, Lisa."

"What does that have anything to do with it?" She demands. "You love who you love, Dean, it doesn't matter what body they wear."

"It's got nothing to do with that," is the grumbled reply. "She's an angel and I'm a hunter and it doesn't work like that. She isn't interested in anything like that."

"I think you're wrong," Lisa replies as they hear unsteady feet coming back down the stairs. Castiel is a little slighter than Lisa, not a huge difference between them but it is enough to make the sweat pants ride lower and the t-shirt hang. It seems to spark something in Dean, though, because there is a strange kind of heartbreak in his eyes. "Do either of you need anything before you go? Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"No, we better get back to Sam," Dean says as she pulls him into a hug. Over his shoulder she can see a sudden bleak, angry, expression on Castiel's face. "Say goodbye to Ben for me."

"I will," she promises. "You're wrong," she whispers as she pulls away from him and Dean stares at her, eyes wide and a little desperate before he escorts Castiel to the door.

Lisa does not miss the way that his hand finds it's way to the small patch of bare skin at the small of her back. Nor does she miss the way that the woman leans into Dean's touch.

The hunter is wrong, Castiel cares, Lisa simply hopes that they both realise the truth before it is too late.

_Hee, Lisa's clue by four! _

_Artemis_


	11. Chapter 11

_Hey! Look at me go! Another chapter. I don't know why it has, but going for this convention has really inspired me for this fic. Bizarre but it works out well for all of us doesn't it. Alright, so, hopefully the following conversation will come across as believable. I hope it does because otherwise I'm in trouble._

Dean drives. He does not speak, he does not turn his eyes from the road, he simply drives. Everything about his actions right now is a survival instinct. Dean does not talk about the things that have upset or frightened him. He does one of two things: he yells or he clams up. In this instance he has chosen the silent route and he thinks that may well be for the best.

The thing of it is; he cannot get the image of Castiel slumped, bloodied and unconscious, against Lisa's cupboard door out of his mind. He cannot stop the way that his gut clenches and his stomach churns every time that image replays itself in his mind. For a very long moment when he was trying to wake her Dean really thought that he had lost his friend. His emotional reaction to her waking up, however, is somehow more terrifying. The relief that washed over him in that moment was something akin to the kind of relief he has felt in the past knowing that Bobby or Sam are going to be alright. The sudden need to crush her to him and kiss the air out of her is the bit that scared him the most, though. Dean is very well aware of what some others think of his relationship with Cas. He is very well aware that some see more to it than others.

He would be lying, however, if he said that he had never considered the possibility.

Everything with Cas is intense. From the long stares that they often share, to the heated words they exchange, to the moments of close friendship that are rare and treasured. Everything they do has an intensity that he knows makes others uncomfortable and he knows that he should call Lisa in the morning and apologise for that. He never will. That sort of relationship, however, is always going to go one of two ways; hate or love. The two emotions are so powerful and so closely connected that he thinks it is sometimes a wonder that they can be told apart. Certainly, Dean has hated Castiel on occasion, but he is fairly certain he has never _loved_ her. Him. Her. Cas.

Even in his mind he cannot keep straight what Castiel is any more. When Cas is a he everything seems so simple, Dean is not into guys and therefore what he shares with Cas is a powerful friendship. When Cas is a she it all gets so much more complicated. When Cas is female Dean cannot stamp down that want and desire that he has become so good at ignoring. He would not call it _love_, though, Dean does not know if he is really capable of that kind of emotion. Deep affection, certainly, but truly reciprocated love is foreign and terrifying to him. He has been burned too many times to allow that kind of emotion to rule him.

He glances over at Castiel, her face is screwed up in discomfort and her hands lie awkwardly in her lap. Her skin is so pale that it is almost translucent and he can see that she is struggling to stay awake.

"Go to sleep, Cas," he tells her, wishing that he could reach behind him and find the old blanket stashed in the foot well for the colder nights they spend in the car. Her blue eyes are wide and they sparkle as the headlights of car travelling in the opposite direction flash across them. There is pain there, and a desperation that Dean has only seen in one other place. Seeing that emotion there, seeing Cas in the loose clothes that Lisa has loaned her, makes Dean think of another time and another Castiel. It makes him think of a man lost to despair, drugs, sex and alcohol.

He swears to himself that no matter what happens to Cas because of this curse he will never let her become that person.

"There's too much to do, Dean, too much to research. How can you tell me to sleep?" Her response is a little irrational, Dean thinks, and very like Castiel who he knows has no patience for foolish human habits.

"There's nothing you can do in the _car, _Cas," he hisses. "It's dark and Sam has everything we need. Why the hell didn't you go to him, anyway?"

"I _tried_, but this curse wouldn't allow it. Do you think I wanted to be there, Dean? Watching you with Lisa, being reminded of everything that..." She trails off.

"What? 'Everything that' what?" Castiel's sudden silence worries the hunter and he glances over at her.

"It's not important." Dean sees the way that she shrinks into herself. He sees the uncomfortable way that she shifts and the way that she turns her gaze from him. "I tried to get to Sam and it wouldn't let me. It's like it's trying to tell me something and I have no idea what."

"We'll work it out," the assurance sounds hollow to his own ears, he has to wonder how it sounds to her.

"What if we don't?" Evidently Dean's own worries have managed to worm their way into Castiel's mind. "I could fly all around the world for the rest of time, Dean, and never find the one soul to break this ridiculous curse."

"Cas," Dean hesitates, this is really Sam's area and part of him knows that no matter what he says here he could easily end up saying the wrong thing. "Love is awkward and messy."

"I don't want to be like this forever," she replies. "I'm an angel, unless I'm killed I won't die. Can you imagine spending millennia like this?"

The truth is that what Castiel is suggesting is far beyond Dean's conception. The idea of forever, though mentioned and alluded to so many times, it something that no human can ever truly imagine. He shakes his head and knows that she sees it.

"I don't know what to tell you. Maybe you should talk to Sam about this."

"Sam prevaricates," the aggravation in her tone is familiar, almost soothing. "Everything is complicated with him. You're _simple,_ Dean."

"Gee, Cas, don't sugar coat it or anything." He knows that is not what she means, knows that she means that talking to him is easier than talking to Sam. "Look, I can't promise anything, Cas, but you'll know. When the right person comes along you'll know who it is." It is probably the most chick flicky thing that he can say, but at this point the hunter really does not know how else to put it. He wants to reassure her, but he also wants this conversation to end.

"How?" He has never really considered how little experience with humanity Castiel really has. He has never really thought about the fact that she has spent so little time as a mortal and so little time learning about emotions and what it is like to feel them.

"You just will," he glances away from the road to make eye contact with her for a moment. Even in the flickering light he can see the fear in her eyes. He can see the worry that she will continue to switch between an angel in a man's body and a soul stuck in the mortal body of a woman. Every night to be dragged away from whatever it was that she was doing and taken to where ever a Winchester might be. Except that tonight it has just been _Dean_ that she has been dragged to, Sam is no where nearby and it makes him wonder.

A worrying theory begins to worm it's way into Dean's mind. He has to hope that he is wrong because if he is right it could well screw everything up. His friendship with Castiel has been delicately balanced since Sam got his soul back. Cas is fighting a war and Dean has been busy concerning himself with the existence of the Mother of All. So far their two goals have been conflicting and neither has the ability to aid the other. Castiel's problems are simply too large and Dean's are too far removed from the war in Heaven to hold the angel's attention for long. If the answer to this whole mess lies with the hunter Dean knows that it will make everything a million times more complicated and it will most certainly upset the delicate friendship that they are both still clinging to. He does not have so many friends that he can afford to lose one.

He fervently prays that he is _not_ the answer to all of this. He cannot afford to be the answer because he is Dean Winchester and all he does is mess things up. People leave him, they seem to think of him as the anchor that holds them back, and it is almost as though he is doomed to be alone.

"What if I already do?" She whispers next to him and for a long moment he thinks that he has heard her wrong. Dean ignores it in favour of hoping that he is not the answer. Part of him, however, hates the thought of seeing Castiel with anyone else, whether as a man _or_ a woman.

That is the part of him that he is the most terrified of.

_Dean's having a crisis. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!_

_Artemis_


	12. Chapter 12

_I'm so sorry this has taken me so long to get out. I had the following conversation all planned out, but the finale robbed me of my ability to flesh out the parts in between. I honestly can't believe the path that they have chosen to take with my beloved angel and I'm alternating between numb shock, bitter sorrow and boiling rage. I've been taking as active a role as I'm able to in the Save Castiel campaign. It's on facebook so take a look and join in!_

Castiel has spent the long night's drive in silent contemplation. After the conversation with Dean had descended into awkward silence there had been little more to do that sleep or think. Sleep is not something that comes easily to the angel and so thought has been the activity of the night. With the return of grace and a male vessel comes understanding and it is something that he whole heartedly wishes he had never realised.

Everything comes back to Dean.

When Castiel turns into a weak human woman it is Dean that he goes to. He is supposed to be fighting a war in Heaven but every time that Dean calls Castiel will drop everything to go to his friend. Dean's safety and happiness means more to the angel than even winning against Raphael and that is the most dangerous thing of all. The plan that he has could be potentially deadly in more ways than one. He knows that it is something that the hunter will not approve of, but it is the only way. Every part of the angel is screaming that he tell Dean the truth, every part of him wants to back away from this fight and spend the last few years that he might have with the hunter.

If there is one thing that he has learnt in his time with the Winchesters, however, it is that their wants and needs will always come last. Their needs are nothing because so many times they are the ones who stand between a messy death and the ignorant masses. That is quite probably the thing about them that Castiel admires and curses in equal measure. He admires it because on many levels it is selfless and he can forgive them their selfish moments in light of that. He curses it because it blinds them to so much, it leaves them in more danger than they ever need to be in and he cannot be there every moment of every day to make sure that nothing happens to them.

This is not to say that they cannot be monumentally ignorant of the problems of others around them. Sometimes the brothers are so focussed on the saving of the innocent victims that they lose sight of the problems of those closest to them. Dean, especially, is guilty of this and Castiel knows that he should not be so ready to forgive him it. He does, however, because a disturbingly large part of Castiel will forgive the hunter almost anything.

What it does not explain is the irrational and unexpected stab of anger that he felt when he saw Dean in Lisa's kitchen. It does not explain the agonising jealousy that he felt when he was half conscious at seeing the easy way Dean was with his former lover. It does not explain the way that something in him still twists with the wish that things between Dean and he could be so easy and understanding. It is a terrifying need and a foolish desire. It puts the hunter in even more danger than he was ever in before.

"You're going to fry that poor bastard's brain if you keep on thinking so hard," Balthazar comments.

"The vessel is soulless," ever literal Castiel responds with a simple truth as he turns his thoughts away from his hunter. "There is no brain to fry."

"You know what I mean," the other angel makes an exasperated noise and considers the flute of champagne that he holds. "You're preoccupied, Cassie, anything I can help with?"

"The same problem," Castiel brushes off the irritating nickname in favour of using his friend as a sounding board. "Sam thinks that he has found a way to break this curse, Dean thinks that it is a fools errand. I am half inclined to agree with him."

"I don't know what you see in those two gorillas," the sandy haired angel grumbles. "What have they found?"

Castiel has not shared the information about the possible cure with his angelic brethren. Not least because many of them are unaware of the position that he is currently in, but also because there is one concern that stands out above all the others. There is the concern that if Sam is right the kiss will leave him trapped in the body of a woman for the rest of his existence. There is the worry that it will render him human and useless against Raphael and he cannot take that risk.

"Sam thinks it might be true love's first kiss." Castiel ignores the way that Balthazar is always trying to lessen his opinion of the brothers. Like many of the others the angel firmly believes that humans are still beneath them in many ways. Oddly, however, Balthazar does not try to pass Sam's discovery off as ridiculous.

"True love _does_ exist, Cas," he points out. "Sam might have actually gotten it right this time, and don't worry I'm not going to keel over from shock. Any idea who it might be?"

"I'm an angel, brother, I love the Father and his creations equally." The words are a formula but they are not the truth. In actual fact they are so far from it that Castiel wonders that they do not finally induce his Father to come forth and act. Balthazar obviously does not believe it either. Castiel is hardly surprised by that thought.

"Please tell me it's not one of those moronic brothers," the other angel mutters. "You could do a lot better than either one of them."

"They saved the world." Castiel knows that it is futile to try and elevate Balthazar's opinion of the brothers, but at the same time he cannot help but want his oldest friend to think highly of the men.

"And look at the mess they left us with," Balthazar's tone is snide and his face twists with something very like disgust as he speaks. "Very noble and all that but nobility isn't always a good thing. Besides, what have they ever done for you?"

"They taught me the meaning of free will." The reply is a weak one. Sam and Dean have not really taught the angel the meaning behind free will, only how to reach for it with both hands and cling to it selfishly.

"They've gotten you killed. Twice," even as he is pointing this fact out, and Castiel cannot fathom how his friend thinks that he would have forgotten such a painful experience, Balthazar's face takes on a calculating expression. "Come to think of it, _Dean's_ the one that you've died for so many times. Have you tried kissing him?"

"It isn't an option and it isn't important right now." Castiel snaps back. He is trying to ignore the way that his stomach turned and jolted at the thought and the low rush of heat that spreads through him at the merest idea that he might kiss the hunter. "At the moment we need to focus on finding a way to beat Raphael once and for all, I need to speak to Rachel."

"Don't hurry on my account. But remember that Dean's not the brightest example of mankind. You might have to beat him with a stick to make him realise that he's the key to this mess." This is not exactly something that Castiel is completely ignorant of. He knows that emotional matters, particularly those of the heart, are something that Dean will avoid to the detriment of everything else.

"He isn't the key, Balthazar, I'm _not_ in love with him." Even to his own ears the words are hollow. Castiel is as poor a liar as ever.

"And I'm the new messiah." Balthazar is gone as soon as the words are spoken, leaving the sentiment hanging in the air as a challenge that Castiel knows he should ignore and is powerless to refuse.

Rachel, he decides, can wait. He needs to talk to Sam. If anyone knows what might be going on in Dean's head, or how to figure out the identity of a so called 'true love', Sam would be the one. Besides, the curse needs to be broken, Castiel does not believe that he can continue to experience it's effects night after night without losing his mind if he does not start to try and do _something_.

_Artemis_


	13. Chapter 13

_I find Sam harder to write, even with all the practice I got writing Trade In My Halo, so this chapter is shorter than the others. It also doesn't help that I'm fighting off a migraine because I want to get this out. It's a reoccurring one that I haven't been able to shift since Saturday so I'm hoping this will help. Regardless, I'm not here to throw myself a pity party, I just want this out so that I can move back to moving it all along._

Sam glares at Dean as his brother paces to and fro in Bobby's front room. Everything about him is tense at the moment, his worry for Castiel and concern about the Mother of All have reached an almost crippling point. Sam and Bobby have both dedicated themselves to researching all that they can in order to find a solution to either of the problems. Dean has been little help since he returned from helping Lisa to find Ben. The older man is distracted and Sam thinks that he knows why.

Sam knows his brother, sometimes even better than Dean knows himself, and he knows that the only thing that could have really gotten to him in this way. It is more than likely that Dean has had a few truths pointed out to him about his relationship, non-relationship, with Castiel. Dean does not trust easily, does not love easily. It takes a long time for him to warm enough to people to accept them into the close unit of his family. He has been hurt too many times in the past for that.

Sam wishes that it were different for his brother, wishes that there were something he could do to make it easier on the man who has been hurt by so many for so little reason. The younger man has seen this coming for a while, however, Dean falls hard when he falls in love. It is just a shame that he cannot see it for himself, a shame that the older man buries it under denial and causes himself more anguish in the long run.

The rush of wings breaks Sam's train of thought and he catches the brief moment of vulnerable relief on his brother's face when he sees Castiel in one piece. It is quickly hidden but Sam knows that Dean's concern for the angel runs far deeper than he will ever admit, just as he knows that Dean will see it as a weakness that he can never admit to.

"Cas, is everything..." Dean starts to speak but the angel cuts him off. Castiel's face is a blank mask that Sam still finds difficult to read.

"I need to speak with Sam. Privately."

This time Sam does not miss the hurt that flashes over Dean's face. He does not think that Castiel is as ignorant of it as he might like to appear either. The ugly flash of jealousy on Dean's face cuts through Sam, and if the younger brother is honest he cannot blame the older. Castiel has rarely shown any interest in Sam beyond the interest that comes from him being Dean's brother. That Castiel is suddenly so very eager to speak to him alone all of a sudden cannot end well. Dean's expression is vicious, angry and broken. It is something that Sam never wants to see there again, the kind of loss and betrayal because Dean thinks that Cas cannot talk to him.

Sam may not read the angel well, but his brother is a completely different matter. Dean leaves in silence, slamming the back door behind him and Sam watches as the blank expression on Castiel's face cracks for a moment and exhaustion shows through. The silence between them is tense, awkward, as though neither of them knows what to say or how to start.

"How certain are you about the solution you found?" Castiel asks finally, voice low and urgent.

"As certain as I can be," Sam replies, he does not know where this is going but a part of him is screaming that it cannot be anywhere good. "We don't have a whole lot to work with, Cas, you don't even know who did this to you."

"I'm aware of that," the angel snaps. "Are you sure it's the only way?"

"It's the only one that fits. What's this really about?" Sam is positive there is more to this. He may not read Castiel like Dean does, but he knows that the angel is more worried than he wants to let on.

"What will happen, do you imagine, when the curse is broken?" Castiel has his back to Sam now, his hands hanging lip at his sides and his shoulders are slumped. _This_, Sam thinks, is closer to the heart of the problem.

"I don't understand," Sam admits. He does not, not truly. Castiel is afraid of something and Sam needs to figure out what it is. He needs to know so that he can try to work out why Castiel is coming to him with this and why he will not talk about it in front of Dean. "Do you think you know who it is, Cas?"

"I don't _know_, Sam, how could I know?" The angel demands. "I have no experience of this sort of thing. My concern is the outcome. Is there any indication of whether I would be an angel? Or would I be trapped as a human?"

"This is as new to us as it is to _you_, I have no idea," he shrugs. The cold mask falls back into place but the hunter can feel Castiel's disappointment. This is not the answer that he wanted and it is certainly not the one that Sam would have wanted to give. "I'd like to think that whoever it is would love you for _who_ you are and not what _body_ you're in." He explains finally and sees Castiel slump even more, if that is at all possible.

"I sometimes think that the body is the only thing that person sees." The angel is gone as soon as he is finished speaking.

This is going to be an awkward night, Sam decides. Whoever Castiel is talking about has left the angel with no hope for a future relationship or swift realisation of their significance. Sam can only think of one person who is so emotionally stunted that they would not see what is right in front of them. Dean, he decides, is a complete moron because only Dean would miss every clue that his angel has been throwing his way. Cluing him in now will be even harder, because now Cas is obviously keeping a secret from Dean. Now Cas obviously does not want the elder Winchester to know how he feels and it takes a long moment for Sam to understand why.

Castiel does not want to run the risk that the love Dean might feel for him is only for the female human that the angel becomes. Castiel does not want to be trapped as something that he is not. Now all that remains is to convince Dean that there is nothing about this whole conversation for him to be jealous about. There is nothing about this to threaten Dean's standing with the angel, if anything it has simply shown that Castiel thinks more highly of Dean than either of them has ever expected.

Somehow, Sam thinks, he has not been all the help to the angel that he could have been. What he does know is that no matter what Dean really feels, he certainly cares very deeply for Castiel. He hopes that the angel is listening as he sends that thought out in the form of a prayer and then settles into his research and waits for the fall out of this afternoon to hit with the setting of the sun.

_Artemis_


	14. Chapter 14

_One seven day migraine and some fantastic painkillers later and I have this one. It might be a little weird. I'm not sure, pink goblins will do that to a mind. Also, Jared is on twitter. If there was ever a reason that's not Misha, Sebastian, Jim or Richard to join then that is it! _

The three nights following Castiel's conversation with Sam are awkward. Dean gives them a wide berth while he tries to get his mind around the emotions that filled him when Cas asked to speak with Sam alone. The idea that Cas feels he cannot come to Dean with his problems, the thought that he trusts Sam more than he had implied, stings. Dean likes to think that he is closer to the angel than Sam is, he likes to think that if Castiel has a problem he will be able to come to the hunter. That the angel has chosen Sam stabs at him.

He does not even consider the possibility that he is jealous. Even Lisa's words to him cannot make the man consider that. Castiel is his friend, the angel who pulled Dean out of Hell, it is only natural that they are close. He keeps on telling himself that, even as he watches Sam and Castiel try even more frantically to find another solution to the problem. For one reason or another Cas is angry with him, turning hurt blue eyes on him each time she appears in the house. Sam is not much better, frustrated and on the edge of snapping something that Dean is fairly certain he does not want to hear.

"How long are you going to let her sit out there, boy?" Bobby asks him. The old hunter gestures to the front door. Outside a storm has blown up and the rain is falling in sheets, Cas is sat on the front porch staring out at it all and Dean knows that she is getting soaked.

"She'll come in when she gets cold," Dean tells his friend. The reply sounds callous but the last time that Dean tried to tell Castiel to do something that her human body needs the trapped angel had given him a look that promised impending pain and walked away. He can understand that she is frustrated, can understand that she would rather find a solution than do what her body tells her to, but he does not understand why she is now taking those frustrations out on him. "She doesn't need me to look after her."

Bobby shakes his head.

"I'm not suggesting you _baby_ her, idjit, I'm saying that you need to get your head out your ass and try to see this from the angel's perspective." The older man grabs two beers from his fridge. "Maybe then you'd realise that this _isn't_ about _you_."

Dean splutters with offence for a moment as Bobby walks away. He is under no illusions here. He is well aware that this is nothing to do with him, but the comments that everyone around him is making are starting to drag him into this and he needs time to think. He needs to get his head on straight and work out how he feels about _Cas_, not Castiel the angel or Cas the woman, just Cas the personality.

His friend.

The hunter looks at the porch again, thinks about the woman hunched there in the wind and the rain and sighs. Everything is worse for Castiel at the moment, the least he could do is try to ease the way. The least he could do is acknowledge that no matter the confused emotions that roll within him right now, Castiel deserves better than this. Castiel deserves better than him. He crosses to the door that opens onto the back porch, opens it and considers the woman's hunched back as she huddles against the wind and driving rain.

"Cas?" He tries to get her attention and sees her tense even more. "Why don't you come out of the rain?"

"I can take care of myself," she mutters.

"I know," he scowls, "I just don't want you getting sick."

"I'll be an angel again by morning, Dean, it won't matter then," she tells him.

"That's not the point," he reaches to pull her to her feet and is startled by just how wet she is. "Just because you're human at the moment doesn't mean that you have to make yourself miserable."

"How else am I supposed to be?" Castiel demands. The wind makes her soaking hair slap across her cheeks, harsh whips of sodden black that leave red marks on pale skin. "This isn't what I am, Dean, I'm not human and I don't have the time for this kind of weakness. What would you have me do? Spend every night too intoxicated to see? Wake up with strangers every morning as I pursue a cure that is little more than conjecture?"

"No," he tugs her towards the door, pulls her closer to him and hates the resistance in her stance. "I'm not good at this sort of thing, Cas, this is more Sam's area. I just want you back the way you belong." She moves towards him more easily now, the misery in her face a reminder to Dean that he has promised himself he will not let Castiel become that fallen angel from a former future. "Have you thought about it at all?" He queries as he leads her inside. This whole conversation is so far out of his comfort zone that he almost bolts for the yard right there and then.

"About what?" Castiel asks and he does not know if she is completely clueless about what he is asking or if she is as aware that he might need a way out of the conversation as he is. For some unfathomable reason, however, he presses onwards.

"About trying the love's first kiss thing to break the spell. Have you thought about who it might be?" His gut twists. On the one hand he almost does not want to know who it might be, afraid of how he will react when it turns out to be someone else. On the other he is desperate to hear it so that he can go back to pining for Castiel from a distance. No human should want an angel, _Dean_ should not want this angel, but he is slowly coming to realise that he does. It scares him.

"At length," she replies as they enter the kitchen. Castiel stands in the middle of the room, arms limp at her sides as they always are whether she is human-woman or angel-man. Nothing about Cas really changes when she becomes a woman, Dean thinks, not really. It is simply that her emotions are far more pronounced, she seems more fragile too without the grace wrapped around her like a protective shield. It makes Dean want to take care of her even though he knows that she will not appreciate it.

Then again he has wanted to take care of Cas on one level or another for quite some time it would seem.

"So what's stopping you?" He asks instead, helping her out of her coat and heading towards the kitchen door so that he can go upstairs and find her a towel.

"Doubt," she replies and it is such a simple one. It is the same response that keeps Dean from considering the possibility that he might be the one to break this curse.

"I'll get you a towel," he says as a response and he does not miss the hurt and disappointed look on Castiel's face. She wants to talk about this, he concludes as he goes up the stairs, she needs the guidance and he wishes that he could be the one to give it to her.

Dean has never exactly been the expert on love, however, and his number of real relationships can be counted on one hand. He is not the person to give advice on this, not the person that she needs to go to so that she can be pointed in the right direction. Dean's usual approach is less than subtle and not aimed at true love. He grabs a towel almost absently as he thinks, returns to the kitchen where Castiel is still stood slightly awkwardly in her wet clothes.

"Here," he hands it to her and she takes it with a slight frown. "Look," he pauses, unsure what to actually say and not wanting to make this too much more of a chick flick moment. "Whoever this person is, maybe they've got the same doubts you do. Maybe you need to take the risk."

It is the only advice that he can think of to give her, no matter how girly it feels and how unlike him it is. He is tired of seeing Castiel so hopeless, however, tired of not being able to halp his friend. It takes him a long moment to realise that his words are as appropriate to him as they are to the angel.

_Progress! Finally!_

_Artemis_


	15. Chapter 15

_Woop, another chapter out. There's only one more left to go after this one. Just one. It makes me hurt a little bit._

Dean lets his own words wash over him as he realises the truth behind them. Doubts, he concludes, are the only things that are holding him back, but they are so powerful. He likes Castiel, rather more than he should, and he is coming to understand that it is his friend that he wants and not the body that the angel is inhabiting. That his own words can help him come to this conclusion makes him realise that he is more lost than he has ever considered.

The thing of it is that everyone around him has been saying that he and Cas give off this vibe, that he and Cas could have something more. Lisa has said it outright, Sam says it with every exasperated roll of his eyes and Balthazar points it out every time that he leers at Dean when Cas is around. He has been ignoring it for so long, ignoring the way that the angel seems to drag emotional reactions out of him in ways that only his nearest and dearest can. Castiel is under his skin and in his heart and it is something that makes him turn his back on her even as her eyes seem to search his for something that he dare not identify or put a name to.

Under normal circumstances this would be the time that Cas would simply vanish, taking flight between one heartbeat and the next. He has to remind himself that she is still behind him, has to tell himself that he cannot let _his_ doubts show when she has so many of her own to fight her way past. Cas needs him, even if it is only to support her through this, and he cannot let himself continue to fail her.

After all, the longer they take to solve the problem the more he fears that she will end up like that fallen angel from an impossible future. The last thing that Dean wants is a Castiel that broken, a Castiel who remains loyal only because of a lack of other options.

"Alright," he turns to look at her, sees the way that her stance is dejected and her face exhausted. Cas is fighting a battle in Heaven, controlling an army and trying to find a cure to this curse. Everything is harder than it should be for her right now and even when she is a full blown angel Dean is beginning to realise that the circumstances that his friend is in are so much less than ideal. "Get some rest tonight, Cas, and we'll worry about this guy tomorrow. I'll even give you a couple of pointers." He does not add that even the thought of helping her form a bond with someone that is not him is repulsive. The hunter does not think that he will be able to face the possibility of Castiel being with another, he knows that he does not want to consider it right now.

"Thank you," she replies, "but perhaps I should help Sam."

Water is still dripping from her slacks, forming a puddle around her heeled feet. Castiel is still as stiff and as awkward as ever and that is something of a comfort to Dean. The smile he gives her is gentle, almost fond, and it is not one that he uses often. From the way that the trapped angel's face lights up, however, he decides that it is something that he should use with a little more frequency. Looking at her as he is, though, he can see the tenseness in her posture is not just Castiel's usual awkwardness, there is more to it, and he narrows his eyes a little. It only takes a moment to see the way that she is trying to prevent her body from shivering, to see the slight blue tinge to her lips and the dangerous pale of her cheeks. Cas is cold and Dean knows that she does not want to admit it to him.

"We need to get you out of those clothes," he tells her and sees the way that she starts a little bit. "Get you warmed up. I won't stop you from helping Sam afterwards if you still want to." He has won a small victory this night by simply getting Cas in from the rain, by getting her to talk to him, even though he would usually push he knows that it would cause too much damage to this now fragile peace between them.

There is a disappointment in her eyes that he does not understand, an anger in her when she takes the towel from him and walks past to go to the spare bedroom. Dean's clothes are in there and he shouts after her to dig something clean out of his dufflebag. A naked bound angel will be far too distracting and infinitely too tempting for the hunter. In an effort to pull his mind away from the thoughts and images that flood through it Dean starts to make coffee. He may prefer to drink his whiskey as it comes, but Cas needs something to warm her up and mixing the two is probably the best plan.

"Dean," he turns to see Castiel behind him. She is wearing a worn black t-shirt that is far too big for her and the sweat pants she has found are held up by a hand fisted in the waistband. Her soaking clothes are no where to be seen and the hunter figures that they are in a sodden heap on the floor of the spare room. He cannot help the amused smile that crosses his face even as something in him sings at the thought of Cas wearing his clothes. At least these ones will not be ruined by the change back to male angel as the ones that Lisa had leant her were.

"Here," he gives her the hot drink and settles himself at the kitchen table to watch her. Cas fidgets with the drink for a moment, staring into the dark liquid with the smallest of frowns.

"You said that I should take a chance," she says finally after taking a sip. Dean nods, not trusting himself to speak. He does not want to trust what might come out of his mouth. "What if I do and I'm wrong?"

"We all make mistakes," he says, the philosophical words sounding hollow even to his own ears.

"That's not what I mean," she huffs with frustration. "I mean what if I'm wrong and he can't love the real me?"

"The angel?" Dean asks, she half nods. "I don't know. This isn't really my area, but if he knows you at all it'll be the angel that he wants." He does not add that it is the angel that he really wants, he would not complain if he got all the power and grace in the body of a woman because it would negate a lot of his doubts and concerns about his feelings. He knows, however, that in his mind Castiel is, and always will be, male. Once he has reconciled himself to that he finds that the rest of it is remarkably easy. At least for the moment, because he knows that once all of this is over he will begin to worry and doubt and more than likely freak out over his feelings for his friend.

"You cannot possibly be certain of that, Dean," Cas snaps, setting her mug on the counter and glaring at him. He gets to his feet, needing to be close to her and show her that he is. He needs to get her to understand that he does know what he is saying, even though he can never tell her the absolute truth about it all. He will never take that risk again because he has been burnt too many times and lost far too much to do that.

Instead he crosses so that he is stood in front of her, so that he is as close to her as he can get without touching her. The invasion of her personal space does not go totally unnoticed by the angel. Castiel may have little regard for the idea under normal circumstances but Dean rarely gets this close to anyone outside of his family group and he can see the uncertainty in her by the way that she turns her face from his gaze.

"Cas," he follows her, moving his head so that he can try to capture her eyes with his own. When that does not work he resorts to something he never thought he would do, he touches under her chin so that he can urge her to look at him. There is a raw vulnerability in her eyes and he lets his hand linger. "I _know_." He whispers.

The atmosphere between them is heavy, the air alive with something irresistible. His name is a whisper on her lips, he feels the half tilt of her head in confusion and he cannot help himself. If he is going to lose her to another man then he needs to let her know how he feels, just once, before he does. Dean can be a selfish man, but his flaw has always been a penchant for sacrificing his own happiness and well being for the sake of others.

With that in mind he leans in and captures her lips with his own.

_Don't hate me._

_Artemis_


	16. Chapter 16

_Well this is it. The last chapter. It's been an interesting one to write I'll say that. I'd always intended on tying this little piece into the season finale in some way or another. As it turns out a line I had written basically hit the whole thing over the head with a ton of bricks and left me scared by how similar my brain is to that of the writing team. Be afraid!_

_Otherwise, thank you to everyone who has been reading, alerting and most especially reviewing. It's made this a joy to write as usual. _

Castiel does not completely understand what Dean is trying to tell her as he approaches. His eyes are full of conflicting messages that she does not know how to interpret. The hunter's eyes have long been the key to understanding him, bright and expressive even when his mouth lies his eyes broadcast his thoughts to all those who know him well enough.

The angel likes to think that she knows the man she saved from Hell enough to know how he will react to certain truths. Enough to know that he deserves better than her and to believe that he knows it too. Dean is special, to be cherished, and that is something that she does not have the time to dedicate to, much as she may want to. Lisa was everything that Dean needed and Castiel does not think she will ever understand why he let Sam tear him away from her.

Still, Dean's eyes are so full of emotion, so conflicting, that she cannot meet his gaze. She does not want to attempt to decipher his thoughts and find the one thing which will make her give up all hope.

"Cas," he follows her gaze, his eyes burning into the side of her face and not for the first time she wishes that she still had her wings so that she could flee this conversation. It is the gentle pressure of his hand that makes her look up, makes her meet his eyes and see the fear and tender concern that lingers in them. "I _know_."

She whispers his name, her head starting to tilt of it's own accord in line with her confusion. Something in his gaze changes, then, shifting from concern to something else and she feels like she cannot breathe, like the air has been sucked from the room. When he covers her lips with his it is chaste, a promise and a goodbye and she reaches for him before he can pull away. Delicate hands fist in his shirt, her head tilting slightly and her lips parting. He groans, the hand that still rests under her chin shifting to support the back of her head as his other one grips her hip and pulls her closer to him.

Castiel has never before dared to think about what it would be like to kiss Dean, it has always been something out of reach. It has always been a dangerous desire. Now it is something that the angel never wants to stop doing. Both of them gasp as they come apart, faces flushed and eyes opening lazily. They stare at each other for a long moment and she sees the way that Dean looks at her. She sees the hurt and despair in his eyes as he looks her up and down and sees her still as she is. The angel reaches for him again, positive that it is not Dean's fault and that it is actually the solution that they have found which is in error.

"I'm sorry, Cas, I shouldn't have..." She cuts him off with a sharp cry, agony racing through her. It feels like the body is being turned inside out, everything within being torn at with fire and steel. Dean's voice is a concerned shout to one side of her, questions pouring from his lips as he tries to work out what is happening to her.

It is too bright, everything is too much, and Castiel feels something within shift and shatter then knit back together in a way that is familiar and right. It is a feeling that the angel has not felt at night for a long time. The angel glances once at Dean's completely stunned face before vanishing.

The freedom of being his true self again is something Castiel knows he will revel in. The thought that he will be able to return to his task of stopping Raphael and dedicate his energy to it once more is thrilling and perfect. First, however, he has to discover who cursed him so that he can ensure it never happens again.

The glade he was attacked in is easy to return to and not as deserted as the angel had suspected it would be. In actual fact there is a man waiting for him. His beard is a dirty grey and his watery eyes are shrewd. Castiel does not instantly recognise who he is, but he knows what he is. This is another of the old pagan gods and it is either powerful or has allied itself with many others.

"I see you found him, then," the old god rumbles. "It took you long enough."

The angel's stare is icy, pure rage simmering just out of reach and buried by grace. The eyes of the god are just as cool, completely unconcerned with the powerful creature in front of him.

"Why?" Castiel demands. "Why target me like this?"

"There is a lesson you should have taken from this, little angel, and it is not my place to explain it to you if you are too foolish to work it out for yourself. I will give you some advice, however, the path you are on is a dangerous and dark one. It is not something that he will forgive you for easily. Quit while you're ahead and _ask_ for his help, things will go smoother for you if you do."

It appears this old god is no fool, he is gone as soon as he has spoken his piece. Castiel stares at the space he has vacated for a long while as he thinks. He has to wonder how this ancient creature has knowledge of his plan when the only other is Crowley. It is concerning and if he had time he would look into it a little more closely. Time is one thing that he is dangerously short of right now. Instead he decides to assign the task to Balthazar. He has something else, someone else, to worry about.

SPN

Dean stares at the empty kitchen, eyes fixed on the floor where Castiel was curled in pain only moments before. Seeing the glow that filled his friend as the angel changed from woman to man was awe inspiring. To know that it is him, that Castiel feels as deeply for him as he does for his friend is something that fills the hunter with warmth.

Which is why the angel's sudden disappearance bothers the man. He knows that Cas sucks at saying goodbye, knows that the angel is completely unaware and unconcerned with normal human courtesies, but at the least he could have stayed for a moment to discuss this.

"Dean, what's going on?" Sam bursts in, evidently alerted by Dean's shouts and Castiel's cries. Which is when Dean realises that as much as he has acknowledged his feelings for Castiel he is not ready, not yet, for all of the '_I told you so_''s and questions that will come as a result. He is not ready for this part of him to be brought out and examined.

"He changed back," Dean mutters. "Cas changed back and he left."

"Did you...?" Sam leaves it hanging but Dean knows what his brother is asking.

"No," he lies. "We were wrong, it wore off." Sam pulls a face, apparently ready to argue it all out. "There's nothing to talk about, Sam, okay, just leave it. We've got other things to worry about. Let's just get some sleep and sort it out in the morning, alright?"

"Whatever you say, man," his brother agrees but Dean knows that he is not convinced. He needs to be honest with himself, however, and he knows that he needs to talk to Castiel before he says anything to Sam and Bobby.

It is much later when Dean is already asleep that he sees his angel again. There is something almost peaceful about the way that Castiel uses a dream to come to him, a place where they can talk and yell without the others interfering. It is still Bobby's spare room that they are talking in, however, the scenery has not changed in the slightest.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel keeps his distance, blue eyes nearly completely unreadable. The hunter is not entirely certain what he expected, but this is hardly it.

"That's all you got?" He asks and the angel tilts his head. "You left without a word, Cas."

"We should talk about this, I know, there wasn't time," there is a sorrow in Castiel's voice that Dean does not want to hear.

"There's never time any more," Dean mumbles, anger rising in him. Castiel comes closer, staring up into his eyes and Dean can see that emotion there which both scares and thrills him. He can see the emotion that tells him he is not alone.

"We _will_ talk about this," Cas promises, "just not now. Not when things are so uncertain."

"When we win?" Dean asks and somehow he is alright with the idea. He does not want to talk about emotions, does not want to examine that place in his soul that has become so attached to the angel. Instead he settles for pulling Castiel close, the being is loose and pliable in this dream, settles for pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I will protect you," Cas mutters and Dean thinks that he has heard it wrong. Then the angel is gone and the words that they both need to exchange are left unsaid.

Dean can only hope that when Castiel wins against Raphael and they defeat the Mother of All the price of it all is not too high.

Fin.

_So, possible sequel? First Love. Let me know, I'm well aware that there's a few unanswered questions here._

_Artemis_


End file.
